"Not Dwayne," Simon muttered as he discarded yet another page of a magazine.
The scrap briefly floated before falling to the ground. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing all the scrunched-up magazines with faces unknown to him; he only cared about the face of a certain wrestler. These magazines had driven him mad.
On the 31st of January, he had come to Art Class a sane man and never came out. During the entirety of the class, he had looked through some articles in the hope of finding a very big rock with two eyes to draw. When the bell rung, he still had not found the celebrity. His friends left the class and the art teacher, Julia Troubled, urged him to, yet he did not; he simply hissed in defiance and eventually she left him alone. The janitors that sometimes came must have been terrified to see a boy with ragged clothes and messy hair dig through a seemingly endless pile of magazines.
Fortunately, he took great care to hide the bodies.
His only source of food was anything edible he found in the teacher's desk, and junk from his own backpack. He often thought about his old friends - Ilkam, the Boomer, Samuel and Jack, among others - but, as he had not seen them in a few days, he had convinced himself they were but figments of his imagination - small, happy fantasies he could go back to.
This mentality had its advantages too, you could argue. Since he had no proof that his foes ever existed in the first place, he never thought of them again. He had expected to die before seeing his beloved Dwayne, so, purely out of spite, he made a mess out of Julia Troubled's desk - if there ever was a Julia Troubled to begin with.
He had considered using some of the many tools to his disposal like his laptop to call for help, but he decided against it so long as he did not find Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson's glorious face. Even if he DID find it, would he have anything to live for anymore?
His mentality extended to time itself as well. Time was, to him, a myth. If he spent hours upon hours doing the same exact thing with no results, was there really any "time" at all? Hell, you could cut off his arm and he'd claim he never had had the privelage of owning two arms. His lie's story mended to his will; he was convinced that he had never seen the outside world, never had a family, all of it was just a fantasy.
The only truth was that he needed to find a picture of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson.
